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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321754">In the Darkness (you are my light)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyserpent/pseuds/spookyserpent'>spookyserpent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Black Widow - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Gore, Mind Control, Mutants, Red Room past, Sadness, They all deserve better, They all need hugs, Winter Soldier - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:00:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,448</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyserpent/pseuds/spookyserpent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They are more than just a perfect killing machine. They leave a trail of chaos in their wake. They have a hundred percent mission success rate. </p><p>The Widow, the Viper and the Soldier. </p><p>It was only a matter of time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Natasha Romanov/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Look, I love my OC Alice/Taegan, okay? Also I love Bucky and I love Natasha. We may be quarantined but we will be getting the Black Widow movie!!! </p><p>Tw// discussions of child abuse and sexual content and forced sterilisation but it’s not too graphic. </p><p>Enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She is three and she understands that she is different. </p><p>Her mother teaches her Russian alongside English and rarely talks about her father. Her mother lies with truth and even though they haven’t had a stable home since the War, they always have a bed, even if her mother spends the night in a stranger’s.</p><p>She learns early on that life is not easy and that it will never be easy. She learns to never trust a kind face or a cruel one, to be quiet and unnoticeable, to be quick and strong and capable. </p><p>Every night, her mother will kiss her on the head and murmur, “Katya, you must survive. Even if it means losing me or hurting another person or stealing from the kind, old man. You must survive.” </p><p>She is three and all she knows is survival. </p><p>•••</p><p>Things change when she becomes older. Two years have passed and everything goes wrong. </p><p>Talk of another War is whispered between women in the local shop, between men working on the building site, between children playing in the park. Fear is curling it’s way across the country like a plague. </p><p>Her mother is more fearful that most. She begins to teach her daughter more, giving her more helpful advice, as though she know that time is running out.</p><p>Her mother has blonde hair and light eyes and sometimes, she speaks with a strange accent in Russian. The girl does not like to ask but she watches her mother and believes multiple people live inside of her. She is English woman and smart accountant from over the pond and scary Russian and crazed translator from a country she cannot pronounce. </p><p>She is scary Russian when she takes her daughter to the School. It’s large and beautiful and promises such good things. </p><p>They meet a man with dark hair and darker eyes, who seems to know her mother. He stares at her with fascination and gives her a boiled sweet. Crouching to her level, he tells her is name is Nikolai. </p><p>When her mother kisses her on the head and tells her to survive, she has a horrible feeling this is the last time she will see her mother. So she takes this moment and carefully stores it with her other important memories like the languages and the deception.</p><p>That is the day she realises her childhood is over.</p><p>•••</p><p>Maybe it is because she already knows too much about survival, or maybe it’s because her mother was different but she knows that something is wrong within a year of staying at the School. </p><p>She’s thrust head first into a dormitory of other small girls and is told that her name is now Alice, not Katya. Some of the other girls protest this change and they disappear for a week before returning with blank eyes and a twitchy persona. She makes sure to ingrain Alice into her brain.</p><p>The teachers always offer a smile and a hand but they are not kind. They are never kind. She knows a shark grin when she sees one. </p><p>So instead of trying to become a shark herself - which would only draw unnecessary attention - or allow herself to become prey, she becomes a pilot fish. She is smart, smarter than the rest of her all-girls class but she doesn’t ever mention it.  The teachers may have cottoned on but they don’t stop it so she keeps her place close to them: a mutually beneficially place. </p><p>They teach English, maths and science. They teach French, Spanish and Russian. They teach cooking and sewing and first aid. </p><p>She does what she’s always done: learn and remember. </p><p>•••</p><p>She is seven and she is told about the White Viper programme. At sixteen, one of them will be gifted the mantle and is expected to hold onto it and treasure it. </p><p>The other girls miss the implication, she does not. </p><p>This is the same year they are told to wait outside a room in single file. Every five minutes, a girl goes in and does not come back out. Every eight minutes, a sharp bang echoes from the room, through the corridor and seems to shake the facility. </p><p>When her name is called, she enters to find a woman with long auburn hair and wise green eyes. She is tall, even without the heels on her feet and she holds a strong persona around her. Nikolai stands at her side, along with another man she does not recognise. Along the far wall stands a handful of her classmates.</p><p>“Alice, meet the Headmistress,” Nikolai introduces and the girl gives her a smile. </p><p>“Hello.” </p><p>The woman nods to her and gestures to a figure tied to a chair, bolted to the floor, bag over their head. “A White Viper must be strong and fast and smart. You have a lot of potential, dear. Do not prove me wrong.”</p><p>A gun is placed into her too small hands and Nikolai explains the mechanisms for it. He is slow but she knows he will not repeat himself. There are two dark patches on the wooden floor. She may be young but she knows. </p><p>“A White Viper must be loyal to this School, to me and to the country. Are you capable of becoming a White Viper, Alice?” The Headmistress coos as Nikolai raises her hand to point at the figure. </p><p>There a moment of pure stillness. She can take the easy way out, refuse to pull the trigger and get shot herself. It can only get worse after this. But...</p><p>But she promised her mother that she would always survive. Even if it meant hurting another person. </p><p>She takes a breath, wonders how much time this will buy her and pulls the trigger. </p><p>She spends the next forty minutes watching as some of her classmates end up dead and scrubbing the blood from the floors along with the classmates that survived. </p><p>She does not miss the proud and interested look the Headmistress and Nikolai give her. </p><p>•••</p><p>After that, the lessons change slightly. A few girls arrive to their group so that the other classes are more equal. </p><p>Now that they have passed their first test, the teachers no longer pretend to be kind. Beatings are a regular occurrence along with punishments that lead to disappearances. </p><p>Their physical education is the biggest shift. They are taught ballet and gymnastics to the point of broken bones and fearful grimaces whenever soft music plays. They are taught to run and hide and fight until they are unconscious and bleeding. </p><p>She learns and learns and learns, keeping the girls at arms length, bargaining with the teachers, rising even when her body is broken. </p><p>She is not the best but that’s the point. How can she win if they already know she is capable? She is small and chubby but she has an overworking brain. </p><p>She is the first to kill another girl during a fight when the teacher tells her to win. Alisha. Instead of a beating, she is given an extra meal. After that, the other girls stay away from her and try to kill one another. </p><p>Three other girls die that year. None of them mourn. The summer comes with heat and more rain. </p><p>•••</p><p>Her feet bleed from the ballet. Her palms bleed from the gymnastics. Her knuckles bleed from the fighting. </p><p>She is young, barely eight, and she knows pain like the back of her hand. </p><p>Her back aches from the beatings, her arms from the stress positions, her legs from the stretches. </p><p>She dances and she flips and she fights. She bears the sting of the cane, the heat from a slap, the pressure of a bruising grip. </p><p>She is young, barely eight, and there are moments when she is terrified, when she clocks the looks of the trainers or the Headmistress and worries that everything she does isn’t enough to save her. </p><p>There may be a time, when her fluent Russian, Spanish and French, her perfect pirouettes, her flawless splits, will not outweigh her issues with computers, will not outweigh her poor accents, will not outweigh her problems with math. </p><p>You will survive, her mother hisses. </p><p>She will survive.</p><p>•••</p><p>It is summer, the heat is overwhelming her.</p><p>Her feet are bloody from six hours en pointe, her hands are scraped raw from the bar, and her back is littered in welts from the last guards beating at her mispronunciation in Arabic class.</p><p>She is pit against Laura, the tallest and strongest within their group. Laura has already given her a bloody nose as the class watch.</p><p>The trainer laughs when she falls and kicks her in the ribs with his boot.</p><p>“White Vipers do not feel pain,” he snaps as she smothers a whimper and rises to her feet. “White Vipers always complete their missions.”</p><p>Laura spots the weakness, tries to send another blow to her ribs but Alice is stronger than she looks, mentally anyways. She grabs at Laura’s leg and pulls until she hears a break and Laura’s following scream. </p><p>Hunched over, Alice pulls her into a chokehold until Laura’s scream splutters into a slack mouth and fluttering pulse. She stands defiantly and turns to the trainer. </p><p>There is silence. </p><p>He inclines his head. “Maria, you’re next.” </p><p>•••</p><p>She is ten and there is a final year test. </p><p>Their overall marks are taken into account along with their practical marks. Before this week, none of them knew they were being marked. </p><p>At the end of the week, stress and worry circulating their dorm, they are brought to the same room where they first killed someone. </p><p>The Headmistress smiles at them, “there must only be one White Viper. The White Viper must be strong and fast and smart. The White Viper cannot be weak. The weak must be culled.” </p><p>For three years now, they’ve had to repeat what the teacher says. She knows there is a word for it but she also knows that sometimes it’s best to not use her brain. </p><p>“There must be only one White Viper. The White Viper must be strong and fast and smart. The White Viper cannot be weak. The weak must be culled.” </p><p>“Good.” She nods, turns to the guards at her shoulders as they list of ten names. Hers is not called. “You are the bottom percentage. Only five may continue their studies. To the labyrinth.”</p><p>Under the School is a network of interlocking mazes that are littered with weapons. They have only watched as the older years are sent there. Now, it is her classmates turn. </p><p>The remaining girls stand in the viewing room, facing the large window and multiple camera screens. </p><p>Twenty minutes later, five are dead. The survivors shake but don’t cry. They are sent back to their dorm and silence settles across the cold room. </p><p>They do not mourn. </p><p>•••</p><p>She kills Bethany in spring. </p><p>Sometimes all she sees are their faces and cannot sleep. </p><p>They are worked harder, their portions become smaller, they are taught about ways in which to murder, to torture.</p><p>She starts to hoard food and is sent on her first mission. </p><p>It is a simple one involving a policeman and some poison. </p><p>She is gifted an extra blanket and an extra bread roll. </p><p>She survives. </p><p>•••</p><p>There is a room they are sent when they need reprogramming. </p><p>They sit in a chair and music plays or sometimes a film while Doctor Michaels with a kind smile and intelligent eyes reads aloud to them. </p><p>She does not fear the doctor or the chair. </p><p>She fears what she cannot remember, the words and phrases she knows are implanted in her head, the time lost. </p><p>She is smart enough to never voice these thoughts.</p><p>•••</p><p>Every year, at the end of summer and beginning of winter, they are introduced to the other groups. </p><p>There are ten classes of girls and ten classes of boys. </p><p>She befriends a malnourished, whip-thin girl from group four (she finds out that she’s group seven) called Anya. Anya comes with an already tall and heavily muscled blond called Zander from group eight.</p><p>She picks them because she’s sees herself in their eyes. They are survivors. </p><p>It’s scary how accurate she can be.</p><p>•••</p><p>The pain is unbearable but she stands, spitting the blood from her mouth onto the floor. The boy cocks his head to the side, smirk on his lips.</p><p>She is made of things stronger than blood and bone. She is made of steel and fire. </p><p>None of them knew they would start sharing some classes with the other groups. That is the test: expect the unexpected. </p><p>He goes to punch her again and she moves, bloody lips pulled back into a snarl. </p><p>She is a survivor. </p><p>Snapping his arm, breaking his nose and twisting his ankle until all he can do is scream leaves her smug and sore. </p><p>The trainer does not smile but she seems impressed. Leaning down, she whispers into the boy’s shaking form, “White Vipers do not feel pain. White Vipers are not weak.” </p><p>She is told to sit out and watch the rest of the matches. </p><p>The next time their groups merge, the boy is no where to to be seen.</p><p>•••</p><p>Before she is twelve, she has completed more than a hundred missions. They are all successes. The Headmistress becomes a prominent figure in her life. </p><p>She knows she is being moulded. She doesn’t try to resist it. </p><p>They have an hour of downtime every day but some days she is taken to the Headmistress’ office. </p><p>The Headmistress is not kind but she is smart, extremely smart and she seems to appreciate (or at the very least, is amused) but Alice’s comments and thought processes. </p><p>There, she learns about other agencies, she learns about the guards, she learns about the other groups. She is grateful but doesn’t express it. White Vipers are not plagued by emotion. </p><p>She may not be the strongest or the fastest or the smartest but she will survive. </p><p>•••</p><p>Winter brings harsh conditions and the talk of Russian competition. The Headmistress disappears for three weeks and only she knows because of the lessons. </p><p>When the Headmistress returns, she speaks of the Black Widows. Russian girls, who handcuff themselves to the bed frame every night, who only know honour, who seduce and kill.</p><p>She kills another girl - Yvonne - in the snow. </p><p>One girl tries to run away and she is strung up in the middle of the courtyard for everyone to see. Her class start target practice on her. She is dead after four bullets.</p><p>•••</p><p>She is twelve and war breaks out again. She is not scared but the School spend a week on lockdown, plotting, planning. </p><p>For that week, all of the graduated Vipers leave to investigate, to infiltrate. </p><p>For a week, she sits with a class and prays for all of them. </p><p>For a week, they play the sad, terrified children act to the authorities and the School remains under the radar, only this time with more funding and more orphaned children. </p><p>•••</p><p>She is twelve and she is bleeding. </p><p>Blood is pooling in her underwear and her stomach cramps. </p><p>Victoria, one of the older girls, finds her in the showers, rubbing at the crimson-soaked cloth. </p><p>“Don’t show them,” she hisses, helping her coverup the evidence. “Don’t ever let them know. It’s normal, don’t panic, just don’t tell them. When they find out, tell them it was your first time, okay?” </p><p>She blinks at the girl and nods. She has become an efficient liar and has learnt the tells of others. This information is important to her survival. “Okay. Thank you.” </p><p>Victoria says nothing. </p><p>Two weeks later, another girl in her class is found with blood-soaked linen. She is taken away and returned two days later, eyes blank and hollow.  Her missions are different, the teachers say. After five of them, one of the guards is seen grabbing her and taking her to his room. </p><p>They are both found dead in the morning. </p><p>She does not mourn but she continues to hide the evidence of her monthly bleed.</p><p>•••</p><p>She is thirteen and her body is changing. Her hips are wider, her breasts bigger and her body is starting to lose it’s puppy fat. </p><p>She is still a lot more curved than the other girls but the Headmistress remarks that this is a good thing. </p><p>Strangely, they send her on missions with some of the older girls. Victoria, Clarissa and Emily. She plays the role of their little sister, who whinges or cries or simply bugs her older sisters. </p><p>Each mission is a success. While standing behind Victoria during a debrief, the older girl says with conviction, “you are correct in your assumptions, Headmistress. Alice does have potential.” </p><p>Two days later, three of the older girls try to kill her in the canteen. Killing is encouraged. The guards do not get involved. Two seem to make bets. </p><p>So she takes her fork and knife and does what she does best: be underestimated. She stabs two in the jugular and one in the eye. </p><p>Her reward: a hot shower and another bowl of soup. </p><p>No one tries again. </p><p>•••</p><p>The boy remains stoic despite his strung up position, the girl beside him does not. She sobs and screams and begs. </p><p>She ignores the pitiful girl, holds her sniper rifle tighter. </p><p>“Fraternisation is one thing,” the Headmistress comments beside her prone position on the hill. The wind is cold and while the Headmistress is wrapped in furs, she is in nothing but her usual leggings and baggy t-shirt. “Getting caught is another, entirely.”</p><p>They are a year older, both with potential, the Headmistress said as much. But they broke the rules. She knows that rule breaks are never forgiven. </p><p>The Headmistress sighs. “So much wasted potential. Ready, Alice?” </p><p>She nods. “Good,” the Headmistress tuts, “Luca, left leg.” </p><p>She fires, watches his grunt, the blood splatter, feels the gun lunge in her hands, against her shoulder, hears the click and boom. </p><p>“Anna, right hand.” She fires. </p><p>“Luca, right shoulder.” She fires. </p><p>“Anna, left foot.” She fires. </p><p>“Good, Alice. Your aim has definitely improved.”  She turns to the guard beside her. “Cut him down, if he can work his way from the courtyard, let him back to his dorm.” The woman turns to her as the guard speaks into his radio. “You know what to do.” </p><p>She does. This is a test. If she fails, she may be the one strung up, used as target practice. </p><p>Waiting for the command, she watches as he’s given a knife to free himself. He cuts away at the bonds quickly, efficiently and spares the girl beside him a look. </p><p>Predator or prey? She remembers something the Russians say, love is for children. Big bad wolf or little red riding hood? </p><p>He flips the knife and throws it at the girl, striking her in the neck. Blood pools from her throat as she chokes on it, body jerking like a fish on dry land before she falls limp. </p><p>He begins to run. “Now, Alice.” </p><p>She breathes out, feels her heart beat calmly in her chest. Finger hovering over the trigger, she waits for the break between beats. </p><p>She fires. He drops.</p><p>“Good, Alice. Very efficient.” The woman doesn’t have to tell her to remember this, she knows all too well what threat this sends. “Go back to the gymnasium.” </p><p>She nods, packs away the rifle and stands. </p><p>She does not mourn. </p><p>•••</p><p>A mission in France brings her face to face with a Black Widow. The woman is stony-faced and skilled, killing her mark with a quick and efficient gunshot. </p><p>They have been told to stay clear of the Widows so long as their mission parameters meet the Viper’s. </p><p>She stalks the Widow to a rooftop, preparing to hit the target Alice has been sent to watch, not kill. The Widow knows Alice is there, she has too. She does nothing to deter her, as though she believes the younger girl won’t try anything.</p><p>The bullet buries itself in the Widow’s skull and she returns to the street as though nothing happened. </p><p>Two days later, when she finds no evidence of her mark’s disobedience, she is called home. </p><p>She is met with a day of rest as her reward for shooting the Widow but the real reward is knowing the Widows’ weakness: cockiness. </p><p>•••</p><p>There are rumours circulating the facility, talk of a serum that enhances the body. </p><p>She has seen graduated White Vipers and knows that to fully graduate, they undergo a serum to make them stronger and faster but a lot of them still die. </p><p>(She is not supposed to know this but following the Headmistress around is enlightening.)</p><p>This serum, however, comes from a German scientist. He wants to make super-soldiers. In fact, he has made one: a certain Captain America.</p><p>“But we are not soldiers,” Anya whispers to her during their yearly meets. “We are spies. We are White Vipers.”</p><p>She does not truly think about it until she is tucked into her cot, surrounded by the other girls. Anya is right but also completely wrong. </p><p>To be a White Viper is to be a versatile. A White Viper can be a spy and a soldier and anything the School tells them to be. </p><p>She closes her eyes and sleeps to the sound of soft cries.</p><p>•••</p><p>Every week they are taken to a special room and injected with some type of drug. The effects vary but they are expected to continue their lessons. </p><p>She has to use a gun while dizzy, has to fight while feverish, has to switch languages while her tongue is like lead in her mouth. </p><p>Sometimes, they poison their food. She has learnt the different tastes, the knowing smells and sights of concoctions within her meal. </p><p>In the end, she can fight and shoot and kill, deaf, blind, intoxicated, under extreme stress and pain. </p><p>The trials are agony but she prevails.</p><p>She survives.</p><p>•••</p><p>She is fifteen and she snaps Mia’s neck in the summer when the sun is hot and her skin is flushed. </p><p>Her acne is still prominent and there is still fat surrounding her waist; she can tell that it worries the Headmistress. She does not mind. To the other girls it hides who she is. </p><p>The war is in full-swing and she is sent on more war-focused missions. </p><p>Victoria is despatched away and returns with talk of Captain America and his golden hair and soft lips. She talks of Peggy Carter’s jealousy and Howard Stark’s arrogance. She has plans from the Americans and the Headmistress is extremely proud. </p><p>She is given the opportunity to fulfil her full potential. </p><p>Victoria is lead down what the older years have dubbed the White Corridor. Supposedly, according to George, one of the first Vipers, it’s named that due to one of the Vipers returning with angel wings. </p><p>He’s too serious for it to be a lie. </p><p>•••</p><p>“I cannot prepare you for torture,” the teacher speaks to them, standing outside of a reinforced door. “There is no end to humanity’s imagination. We can prepare you for pain, for surviving.” </p><p>When she is called into one of the rooms, a girl from another of the classes sits there, tied to a chair, eyes wide but determined. </p><p>“We have told her where a key is hidden. You have until dinner. No key, no food.” The teacher leaves and she is left with the girl. </p><p>It’s all about the give and take. She is precise and calm, keeps her voice as steady as her hands. </p><p>The girl screams after an hour of cries and withheld grunts. Her fingernails have gone, her skin is peeling at her ankles, her knee is shattered. </p><p>She has no idea if she is meant to kill the girl or if she will be given a shot of the serum to heal her. </p><p>Either way, she does not stop. She lets the girl drink from her water bottle, washes the blood from her hair and tears from her cheeks. </p><p>She begins again. </p><p>Three hours in, she strokes the girl’s yellow hair. “Tell me,” she whispers, soft and comforting, “tell me and this stops.” </p><p>It’s a carefully concealed lie. She will stop but she has no idea what will happen to the girl. Either way, she needs to prove herself, she needs to survive. </p><p>The girl leans into her hands and she tugs ever so gently when her eyes go unfocused. Hissing through broken teeth and split lips, she says, “in the kitchen, third draw by the main sink. Please.” </p><p>She has the urge to cry. White Vipers do not beg. They certainly do not break. </p><p>But she has her answer. She nods, presses a gentle kiss to her sweaty forehead. “Thank you.” </p><p>She eats that night with only three other girls from her class, the rest watch from the sidelines. </p><p>Victory doesn’t taste all that good.</p><p>•••</p><p>A day later, it is her in the chair. </p><p>Seven hours later, in agony, barely holding her eyes open, she has not broken. </p><p>She is given a weak version of the serum to heal her broken bones, her ripped skin, her bloody welts and cuts. </p><p>The Headmistress gently grasps her shoulder after dinner, as she sits in their medical wing. “Torture proves the power of the mind. To become a White Viper, your body must give out before your mind does. You have so much potential, Alice, do not waste it.”</p><p>“I won’t, Headmistress.” </p><p>She survives.</p><p>•••</p><p>Three months pass before she spots Victoria again. </p><p>A thick, metal collar sits around her throat and her eyes are an unnatural green. Her blonde hair has been shaved down one side and is cut to her ear on the other. It looks like a tree has woven itself into her skull and the branches dip down her neck and under her shirt. </p><p>Victoria becomes Ivy. </p><p>Alice is the only one that will sit near her in the canteen. She does not miss the look the Headmistress gives her. </p><p>•••</p><p>She is a ballerina, with strong feet and a beautiful smile. </p><p>She is a gymnast, with tight grips and an eagle-eyed stare. </p><p>She is the daughter of a politician, with tawny hair and a cute laugh. </p><p>She is an assassin-in-training, with a body used as a weapon and blood dripping from her hands. </p><p>One of these are true. She doesn’t dwell on it. </p><p>•••</p><p>Doctor Smith is an older woman with greying hair and warm eyes. She is delicate with the children like no other person in the facility. </p><p>When they were children, she would kiss their foreheads after helping them. If the injury was extremely traumatic - Millie breaking her leg after falling from climbing one of the watchtowers - she would give them sweets and easy to swallow medication.</p><p>One morning, Alice cannot stop the guard seeing the blood she wakes up in. </p><p>She acts surprised and is taken to see Doctor Smith. She is surprised to see the Headmistress there. </p><p>“White Vipers cannot be weak,” she repeats after the woman and is confused by the statement she already knows off by heart in multiple languages. “Emotions are weak.” </p><p>“Do you know how babies are made?” </p><p>She blinks. “Yes, Headmistress.” </p><p>“Do you know of the emotional attachment between the baby and their mother?”</p><p>Oh. “Yes, Headmistress. A baby is dependable on the mother. The mother becomes depressed without her baby. There is nothing a mother wouldn’t do for her baby. This is a weakness.” </p><p>“Good, Alice.” A freckles hand gently grips her cheek before the woman nods to the kind doctor and leaves. </p><p>She is given anaesthetic and she goes to sleep. When she wakes, her stomach hurts and she is told to rest.</p><p>•••</p><p>Her missions change. She learns that men are pigs and sex is horrid. She learns to be the virgin and the dominatrix. She learns to improvise and to always complete her mission, no matter the cost. </p><p>She is not Lisa. </p><p>She survives. </p><p>•••</p><p>She is seventeen and she is sent into the Scottish Highlands with the rest of her class.</p><p>They started with thirty girls. They are down to twelve. </p><p>They are woken early in the morning and left with no food and no other items bar a single knife, a coat and coordinates of the pick-up point in two weeks. </p><p>Six survive. </p><p>•••</p><p>Graduation beings with tests. </p><p>She is fluent in a multitude of languages. She knows more ways to kill someone than most government officials. She makes it through their torture programme and lives through the drugs injected into her. She is professional in armed combat, espionage, infiltration, disguise, manipulation, evasion, hacking, marksmanship, stealth and assassination.</p><p>They are taken to the labyrinth. </p><p>She shoots Sarah, stabs Courtney and snaps Lucy’s neck. </p><p>Through the intercom, the Headmistress’ voice filters through, “you are the victor. Well done, White Viper.” </p><p>•••</p><p>She spends her eighteenth curled in the corner of a cell, breathing between cracked lips as her entire body burns. </p><p>The serum, in its bastardised version, takes three hits before it’s supposed to work. </p><p> Before the procedure, the Headmistress gets her to recite how Vipers are not weak. That death is a weakness and to be a White Viper she must overcome death and the weakness of her soul. </p><p>“What if I don’t have a soul?” She asks her just as her heels click on the concrete.</p><p>The Headmistress gives her an almost sad look. “Then you will die.” </p><p>For seven days, she screams her lungs raw and vomits until she’s severely dehydrated. Her body wants to give out, she can hear the blackness calling. </p><p>When Doctor Smith walks back into the room, guards standing at her side, she laughs in joy.</p><p>She is still alive. </p><p>•••</p><p>Captain America is dead. </p><p>Or at least, in the ice. </p><p>She is taught about him - his preference for British, brunette women with an attitude - as though he is not dead. </p><p>•••</p><p>Ivy tries to kill herself three times. The guards won’t allow it. The Headmistress is disappointed in her. </p><p>So instead, she causes chaos. </p><p>The younger years are told to run and the older years spend hours slashing through plants and branches to try and find her. </p><p>She is sent out, even with the second shot of serum coursing through her veins. </p><p>Stumbling to the attic, she finds Ivy in the far corner, metal collar beside her. </p><p>“They have turned me into this monster,” she spits, raising a gun to point straight between Alice’s eyes, “and now they won’t let me die in peace. I just want to be free.”</p><p>“We can never be free,” she whispers back, “but-“</p><p>But she owes her this much. </p><p>Three minutes later, the scene is staged. Ivy mistook Alice’s intentions and let her close enough to grab the gun and shoot her.</p><p>She is not rewarded but she is not punished. She goes back to her cell with another name written in the kill-list in her brain.</p><p>•••</p><p>There is talk of a possible programme sprouting up in Russia: Wolf Spider. </p><p>They hear chatter of a possible Soldier. </p><p>The Headmistress seems worried about this but she does not comment on the sudden influx of guards. </p><p>•••</p><p>The War has been won by the allies. </p><p>She finds herself celebrating in a cell, blood pouring from her lips as her body rejects the serum a final time. </p><p>She survives, of course. </p><p>Once out, she finds Anya - taller, stronger, still with a pointed face and sad eyes - and Zander - some don’t call him Viper, some call him Bear - still alive too. </p><p>They are instructed to fight between themselves to find the ultimate Viper. They may have all passed the programme but there can still only be one. </p><p>Killing is not allowed and they are sent to the labyrinth. </p><p>She slams Marissa’s head into the wall, breaks Phillip’s nose, strangles Anya to the point of a blackout and is left with Zander. </p><p>He is twice her size and filled in with rippling muscle. She makes the show of hiding the blood drawn by Marissa and the sprain in her ankle from Anya. </p><p>He charges and spots too late his mistake. </p><p>Flipping onto his shoulders, she breaks his arm, flips him over and slams his head down onto the concrete. Before he can rise, she kicks him in the face, and snaps his ankle. </p><p>Between bloodied lips, he hisses, “you gonna break every bone in my body?”</p><p>“If I have to.” </p><p>He laughs and stumbles to his knees. White Vipers are not weak. White Vipers do not fear pain or death. White Vipers continue to fight with their last breath.</p><p>She kicks him in the side of his head and for extra measure, slams his head into the concrete before checking his pulse. </p><p>Over the intercom, she hears the Headmistress coo, “to our victor, Alice, the official White Viper.” </p><p>When pride fills her veins, for the first time, she doesn’t try to push it down. </p><p>She wonders if her mother is proud. </p><p>•••</p><p>For ten years, it’s just missions. </p><p>Killing this person, following them, finding this, protecting her, blackmailing him.</p><p>It’s solo missions and working with Anya and working with Zander. (They’re the only two which she works with without fuss. She’s in the Headmistress’ favour after all.)</p><p>Life is chaotic but she’s oddly at peace. </p><p>•••</p><p>The mission in Russia goes smoothly and she reports back her findings. “You were correct, Headmistress. The Soldier is James Barnes, Captain America’s best friend in the war. He is unruly but has a lot of potential. The metal arm is built into his bone structure. He is working as a teacher in the Red Room.” </p><p>Next week, she is learning about James Barnes and all of his weaknesses - weaker individuals, science lovers, someone who can snap back - and the mechanisms of a metal arm. </p><p>•••</p><p>If her time doesn’t revolve around missions, it’s training the younger years. </p><p>They are small and slow but they are obedient. She tells them to jump and they ask how high. </p><p>Within a week, she finds herself inside the Headmistress’ office. “Artemis is the one, Headmistress.”</p><p>“The best is Sophia. What makes you think Artemis is the one?” It’s a test. Everything is always a test. </p><p>But she wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t worked out the game. “She’s failing purposely so that the others underestimate her. She fought against Sophia and I told them it was for a chance of supper. She won.”</p><p>The shark smile appears. “Keep me updated. In the mean time, I have a prize for you.” </p><p>The extra bowl of soup and the roll is worth it. </p><p>•••</p><p>Natalia Alianovna Romanova is the new Black Widow. She has bright, blood red hair and sharp, emerald eyes. She is slight and small but she isn’t stupid. If she were, she wouldn’t be here. </p><p>Alice doesn’t pretend to hide or appear weak. They are both here because they are worthy of their titles. </p><p>Madame B. stands beside the Headmistress, two guards flanking both of them. If it came to a fight, a proper one at least, it would be luck that would decide the victor. </p><p>Even if Anya is currently hidden behind one of the tiles in the closet and Phillip is sprawled in a tree, sniper rifle pointed at the window. They may have discussed this but the probability is still even. Knowing Madame B. another Widow is hiding somewhere. </p><p>“Begin,” the Headmistress commands and Natalia moves first, her jabs a flurry of movement. Alice dodges each one, dancing around the corner of the ring. </p><p>Natalia switches it up. She kicks and punches, tries to grab at Alice’s hair. She continues to dance away, allowing the smirk to filter onto her face. </p><p>She knows the Widow’s weakness. She was in this position before. Natalia’s eyes flash.</p><p>Natalia charges her and she allows herself to be thrown to the floor. From there, it’s almost child’s play. </p><p>She flips herself around, sprains the Widow’s wrist and they end up on the floor, the Widow’s head between her thighs, throat begin crushed. </p><p>Nails tear holes into her skin but she holds the Widow in place until told otherwise. </p><p>After that, they are sent on missions together. </p><p>•••</p><p>“Come on, Red, lighten up,” she grins across from the Widow on the train. </p><p>“Do you take nothing seriously?” The red-head snarls and Alice can’t help but laugh. She’s teaching the Widow her accent but it’s still sounds fake between her lips. </p><p>“I take my survival seriously. You need to relax. I could give you a massage if you want?” </p><p>Natalia practically hisses at her. “You think I trust you behind my back?” </p><p>“No massage then, Jesus.” The carriage door opens and she jumps up, helping the older woman walk through, responding in the same guttural Scottish accent. “There, there. Sorry about my sister, an idiot if you’ve ever met one.” </p><p>The woman laughs, pats her hand and continues through the opposite door, tracker firmly secured in her purse and slow acting poison injected into the back of her hand. </p><p>Natalia stares at her. “We are not friends, Viper.” </p><p>“No,” she settles back in her chair, pulls out a book from the back beside her, “but we are in this together. Whether you like it or not.”</p><p>•••</p><p>There is something between them, Natalia and her. Something that she can’t quite put her finger on. </p><p>It’s not like the feeling she has with Anya or Zander: they’re practically her family even if that’s not permitted. </p><p>There is a tension between them, something charged and unstable. She doesn’t know whether she wants to strangle the woman or-</p><p>Love is weakness. White Vipers are not weak. </p><p>On a mission when they have to play lovers, she finds herself draped across the dyed-brunette, sucking a bruise into her neck, their mark breathing heavily in the corner of the room. Natalia gasps and writhes and pulls her into a kiss. </p><p>The mission is a success. </p><p>She can’t remove the taste of the Widow off her tongue for weeks after. </p><p>•••</p><p>A diplomat dies in Tennessee and it’s the first time she encounters a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent.</p><p>He is sloppy and dies in seconds but she stays long enough to spot other Agents filtering in. They are thorough but it is clear that none of them have been trained since childhood. </p><p>She is neither punished nor rewarded but she is sent to their base a week later. </p><p>It’s easy to sneak in and out. She could do it in her sleep. Peggy Carter is a smart and resourceful woman. She would recommend her for the Viper programme if she wasn’t already  aligned to the Americans. </p><p>She smiles at the woman when she enters her office and plants devices and trackers. She comments on her hair and leaves. </p><p>There is no trace left and Carter will forget her face in a few days. </p><p>•••</p><p>The Winter Soldier is an intimidating figure. He is tall and thick with muscle, his eyes hollow and metal arm gleaming. </p><p>He is the Soviet’s favourite machine. They call him Ghost and Asset. Natalia calls him Yasha when they are alone. </p><p>Fighting the Winter Soldier is exhausting. He is strong and fast and smart. He has no emotions and no memories to cause any hesitation. </p><p>She is fighting more than an equal. </p><p>This is a test and she is scared but she presses it down and fights him with control and precision. She darts it, plucks a dagger from his tactical belt and stabs him in the leg with it, using the millisecond he takes to process this to flip onto his shoulders and press the blade to his neck. </p><p>“Stop!” Three voices chime in at once and she blinks at them from atop his shoulders. Oleg - the Soldier’s handler - has his gun raised along with the four guards standing behind Madame B. and the Headmistress. </p><p>“Alice.” For once, the Headmistress’ voice scares her. She realises just who that woman is. Natalia is in the corner, watching silently, fear flashing in her eyes. “Get down. Now.” </p><p>She slips from his shoulders in an easy movement and hands the Soldier his knife back. Stepping away, she doesn’t know what she’s done wrong. </p><p>“She nearly killed him!” Oleg cries.</p><p>The Headmistress tilts her head and smiles. “I do apologise, comrade, I forgot to tell her not to.” She gestures to the Soldier’s blood pattering to the floor. “But this proves that she can handle him, Oleg, don’t you agree? Surely, this is an opportunity that cannot be wasted.” </p><p>He points at her with anger. “It was simply luck.” </p><p>The Headmistress looks at Madame B. “If the Handler to the Asset meets a tragic end, who takes over?” </p><p>Madame B. nods suddenly and Oleg drops, Natalia holding a tiny pistol in her hands. “I do. Do not fear, Elizabeth, the Asset will be free for you to use when he is out of Cryo. Natalia, Alice and the Asset will be the perfect killing machine.” </p><p>•••</p><p>They are more than just a perfect killing machine. They leave a trail of chaos in their wake. They have a hundred percent mission success rate. </p><p>The Widow, the Viper and the Soldier. </p><p>It was only a matter of time. </p><p>•••</p><p>She saves Natalia’s life in Prague. Pushing her away and barely missing the bullet herself.</p><p>Natalia becomes Talia or Nat after that. </p><p>•••</p><p>The first time they sleep together out of the mission parameters is Texas. </p><p>Adrenaline coursing through their veins and blood still soaking their clothes. </p><p>She pushes Natalia against the bathroom door and is rewarded with soft lips and even softer skin. </p><p>She doesn’t believe in Heaven but with the Widow between her thighs, she might become a believer. </p><p>•••</p><p>Time doesn’t pass for someone who can’t age. </p><p>She watches empires rise and fall (she has a hand in some of them). She watches people live and die (she has a hand in some of them). She remains unchanged, unfazed as the world shifts from peace to chaos (she has a hand in some of it). </p><p>She is the White Viper. She is Alice. She is no one and everyone. </p><p>Sometimes she wonders whether death would’ve been kinder. </p><p>(In her dreams, she hears a woman plead with her, telling to her survive. It’s her mother and she doesn’t care how much torture she has to endure, she will never forget her face. She lives for her.) </p><p>•••</p><p>The Egyptian heat is sweltering and ironically the Winter Soldier does not sweat. </p><p>He is strong and fast and handsome with his hair tied back and his metal arm glistening. </p><p>She doesn’t act on her desires then. Instead, she ignores them until Rome, when he tells her that he thinks his name is James. </p><p>They break the bed and when they are joined by Natalia for the next mission in Helsinki, she can’t hide her amusement. </p><p>•••</p><p>White Vipers do not need anything but themselves. </p><p>But sometimes, when she is curled between Jamie and Talia, she thinks about the lengths she would go to for them. </p><p>For the first time, she considers ignoring direct orders if it came down to killing them.</p><p>She pushes it down with the rest of her emotions and maintains her many masks. </p><p>(She imagines the Headmistress with bullet to her skull, to Nikolai with a slit throat. It worries her how quickly she would turn against the people that moulded her.)</p><p>•••</p><p>It is spring when James is put back on ice. </p><p>Natalia is sent on more solo missions. </p><p>She is alone and begins teaching again. </p><p>She tries to remember the children’s names, each time one is found dead. Within six months, there are simply too many. </p><p>It should horrify her. </p><p>It doesn’t. </p><p>•••</p><p>Zander becomes her mission partner for a while. It’s comforting in a way she could never explain. He jokes and jibes and plays off of her like a natural-born actor. </p><p>She holds his arm and poisons their mark. </p><p>He shoots the guards while she stabs his wife. </p><p>They return home to bread and soup. </p><p>••• </p><p>It is winter when she is lead from the training room by guards into the Headmistress’ office. </p><p>She doesn’t understand. </p><p>There, the Headmistress plays a video and the world crashes down around her. It is Natalia and James. He is being frog-marched to the chair, Natalia a bloody heap on the floor. </p><p>“Did you know of any fraternisation between the Asset and the Widow?” Nikolai asks and she numbly shakes her head.</p><p>“No, Headmistress, Nikolai. I did not.” </p><p>She tilts her head and Alice accepts her fate. “I don’t believe you.” </p><p>She is lead to the chamber and stays there for three months, in utter darkness and silence. It is hard to fight off madness but they forget that they trained her to survive this, they forget that she is the White Viper, she can survive anything. </p><p>When she is pulled from the room, Nikolai is dead and she is given a new Handler: Roman. He is handsome, in an unnerving, cocky way. He speaks of the freedom she will achieve under his command. He pretends to care about her. </p><p>The Headmistress tells her that they have found a sure way to stop defection. “You had so much potential, dear. You must be unmade.”</p><p>She is terrified but she does not resist. She must survive. Even if it kills her in the process. </p><p>•••</p><p>She knows the chair wipes James’ memories. She knows the Widows have to go through the same indoctrination and brainwashing techniques that the Vipers do. She knows this but she pretends she doesn’t. She is taken to Doctor Michaels. He tuts when he sees her. </p><p>Being unmade is agony. </p><p>She is given a set of trigger words and she is tied to Roman but she doesn’t remember how this happened. She forgets to be bothered by it. </p><p>All she knows is this: the Black Widow is weak and the Winter Soldier is simply a machine. Roman is her everything and she is proud to be under his control. Zander and Anya are Vipers but not true Vipers. Nikolai is a traitor and deserved his death. </p><p>•••</p><p>The years roll by. Roman ages but he is still her everything. </p><p>She doesn’t encounter the Asset again. </p><p>She meets the Black Widow in autumn, when the leaves are the colour of her hair. She tries to talk to her and so she breaks both of her legs and shoots her in the chest. </p><p>She dreams of a woman with long, blonde hair and light teal eyes, whispering at her to survive. She does not remember this woman but she cannot forget her. </p><p>•••</p><p>Zander is her partner and he doesn’t speak to her. There is a sadness and a guilt to his eyes.</p><p>She pays him no mind.</p><p>•••</p><p>Anthony Stark is a prodigy child with genius intellect. His father does not care about him and so, as he grows smarter, he turns his attentions to self-destructive tendencies. </p><p>She learns about him and his weaknesses - someone with spirit, with a high sex drive, with intellect. </p><p>Roman is not pleased but the Headmistress commands it and she is her primary handler. </p><p>•••</p><p>Spring brings a new mission that involves the Black Widow.</p><p>Natalia is plotting something, she can see it in the red-head’s eyes. </p><p>The mission is a success as always even if the Widow is quiet for most of it. </p><p>She doesn’t mention the look to Roman. </p><p>•••</p><p>Howard and Maria Stark are killed by the Winter Soldier on the side of the road. It is staged like a car crash and the serum is stolen. </p><p>She is sent to investigate. </p><p>More Soldiers are being created. The Headmistress isn’t fussed. “They will tear themselves apart soon enough,” she comments, freckled hand lifting a brandy glass to her lips. “The Asset is one of a kind, mark my words.” </p><p>She takes her leave. </p><p>•••</p><p>Natalia defects in the winter. </p><p>The Red Room is destroyed in her wake. </p><p>The School is in chaos. </p><p>She is sent to investigate and the Soldier shoots her in the chest. </p><p>The snow cradles her as she bleeds out, breath sputtering. He appears beside her as she tries to claw away from him. It’s pointless. She cannot survive this. </p><p>Crouching next to her, metal fingers brush the hair from her eyes. “It is better to die a human than live long enough to become a mindless machine. They can wipe me as many times as they want but I can’t forget you, doll. I’m sorry.” </p><p>It sounds too much like a confession, like love and she winces as memories of James, of Talia, of missions she forgot and Ivy, Alisha, Bethany, Mia, Yvonne, Sarah, Courtney, Lucy, Artemis, Anya and Zander, her mother. </p><p>When she opens her eyes - she shut them? - James is no longer in sight and the pain fizzles out. </p><p>Behind her, a burnt building is left to crumble to ash. Her mother’s words ringing in her skull: survive, survive, survive. How can she? This is the least she can do for the mayhem she has created. </p><p>At least her death is intimate. James’ bullet in Natalia’s homeland. </p><p>Alice closes her eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m tired. </p><p>Enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is spring and the dust has settled. The Red Room is gone, along with the White Viper. The School tries to repair.</p><p>It is spring and the Headmistress is shot between the eyes, her heart ripped out and buried in the ground in an unmarked grave. </p><p>Roman is mutilated beyond repair or recognition. There are some body parts still missing. </p><p>Doctor Michaels has his eyes gouged out and shoved down his throat. </p><p>Doctor Smith has her throat slit. It’s the kindest death. </p><p>The Handlers and guards turned on some of them: many of the children are dead but the older years fought back. Their bodies are ripped apart by rage-filled Vipers who never asked for this.</p><p>The School goes up in flames, the children taken and the Vipers gone. </p><p>•••</p><p>Her darkness has manifested. Shadows engulf her body, blackness creeping out of her fingertips across the pearly snow.</p><p>She is the White Viper. </p><p>She is death. </p><p>•••</p><p>She creates a name for herself. </p><p>She builds up a reputation. </p><p>She survives.</p><p>•••</p><p>Zander and Anya have a farm together: it seems she wasn’t the only one fraternising. </p><p>They take some of the children from the School and show them what a real family should look like. It takes time but when she drops by every now and then, she finds the children with smiles on their faces. </p><p>•••</p><p>“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she says to Natalia - Natasha now - when the red-head walks through her apartment door. “Very open. Pretty. Spacious. Homely. Hello to you to, Agent Barton. Never knew you were one for blonds , Nat.” </p><p>There is a tension to the woman’s shoulders when she steps into view, gun pointed straight at her. “Alice. How’s the new found freedom suiting you?”</p><p>She shrugs. “Well, killing off dickwad Roman and Lady Elizabeth was cathartic. Don’t worry, baby, I’m not here to kill you.” </p><p>“The time before last, you shot me and broke both my legs.” </p><p>“They had me tied to Roman, sweetheart. I didn’t really remember or care about you. But I’m free from that, now. So are you.” </p><p>The blond at her shoulder steps into view, purple plaster over his cheekbone. “Uh, not to intrude but who are you?” </p><p>“Taegan. Formally Alice but I’d rather not take a name from my abusers. I’m the English equivalent to the Black Widow over there.” She holds out a hand but Natasha stops him from taking it. </p><p>“Don’t. She’s better than me.”</p><p>She can’t smother the laugh that pours from her lips, eyes still locked on Clint’s. “You would not believe how long it took for me to get her to actually say that.”</p><p>“Why are you here?” Natasha snaps and she sighs. </p><p>“I wanted to see how you were doing, babe. I guess you’ve already moved on. Shame.”</p><p>When she leaves, she does so out the window. </p><p>A tiny part of her feels like she’s dying all over again. </p><p>•••</p><p>Hunting James down is harder than she thought it would be. </p><p>He’s not in Russia and all of his old Handlers are dead. So she investigates further. </p><p>America, land of the brave and home of the free. Ironic. </p><p>It takes three days before she’s comfortable enough to sneak into their facility. It’s right under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s noses. </p><p>She watches him, his blue face in the cryo tank. </p><p>She knows their routine, knows their floor plan, knows that she could fight her way out. But not with him. Not with his shaky figure and broken eyes every time he leaves the tank. </p><p>They would both die. Or she too would be taken as an asset. </p><p>Decisions, decisions. </p><p>There is a commotion outside of the door. She hears her mother’s words.</p><p>“I’ll be back. I promise you that. I swear it on my soul.” She whispers to his still face and disappears. </p><p>•••</p><p>Politicians die, as do CEO’s, along with abusers. Anyone corrupt, anyone who pulls a cord inside of her. </p><p>White Vipers are not weak. </p><p>But she’s not a White Viper anymore. </p><p>She’s more. </p><p>She’s better. </p><p>•••</p><p>In a Prague cafe, history repeats itself. </p><p>She slashes the criminal’s throat and tackles Natasha before his second can shoot at her undefended back. </p><p>A knife ends up lodged in his throat, and the four others are shot with arrows. </p><p>She doesn’t wait around, barely spares Natasha a glance before she’s up and running. She’s three streets down when she looks back. </p><p>Natasha is staring at the man, at the gun, ignoring Agent Barton at her shoulder, shouting if she’s alright, if she’s been hit. </p><p>History repeating itself. Maybe Natasha isn’t as unaffected as she seems. Taegan runs.</p><p>•••</p><p>The Soldier tries to take a hit on her in Belarus. </p><p>She spends two days hidden in the basement of a family, waiting for him, or the authorities, or anyone really. </p><p>Nobody comes. </p><p>She was never there anyway. </p><p>•••</p><p>There is a crash and she struggles to her feet, watches as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent returns fire to the men that tried to kidnap her. </p><p>Everything is hazy from the poison but she is not weak. White Vipers are not weak. She has dealt with worse. </p><p>She stabs one in the coronary artery, one in jugular, one in the thigh and eye. She slits another’s throat and snaps the final man’s neck. </p><p>She is bleeding and shaking but she stares at the agent with an unflinching gaze. He holds the gun a little tighter. </p><p>“Thank you,” she says, even though she was the one that killed them. He still drew the attention away, giving her time to break the bonds and unleash chaos. “Do not follow me again or you will meet their fate.” </p><p>He blinks. “Are you Taegan?” </p><p>She shrugs, picks up her knives and makes for the warehouse’s doors. “You must be Agent Coulson. Natasha likes you. Thank you for being kind to her, for assigning Agent Barton to be her partner. She needs a Handler like you.”</p><p>He doesn’t ask how she knows, just like she doesn’t ask how he knows her name. They’re in the business of spies: secrets are everything and nothing. </p><p>He does ask, “have you ever considered working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?” </p><p>All he gets is a laugh in return and a woman who can disappear. </p><p>•••</p><p>Odessa happens. The Soldier is back once again. Natasha has been shot. </p><p>Taegan sneaks into her hospital room and waits for her to awaken. </p><p>When Natasha opens her eyes, they freeze at the sight of her. “Are you here to finish the job?” </p><p>Taegan can’t help but snort. “There are many people who want you dead, Nat. Word has spread of your current weakness and while I understand that S.H.I.E.L.D. agents currently litter these halls, if I can get in, a few others certainly can.” </p><p>“You saved my life in Prague again.” She says after a long, silent, staring contest. </p><p>“I did.” </p><p>“Why?” There’s a vulnerability there, hidden behind a blank stare and steady heart. </p><p>The words are there, on the tip of her tongue. Three lousy words that would shatter the both of them, that would break the fragility of their alliance, that would destroy their entire DNA makeup. </p><p>She does what she’s always done when on a mission (and doesn’t that hurt, the thought that this is a mission when it’s really not, it’s more, so much more but she can’t do this, not here, not now, not when everything is at stake-).  She switches the conversation around.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to ask how I survived?” Because she knows that Natasha knows. She knows that when she bled out in that snow, it wouldn’t be long before Natasha found her corpse. Of course, that never happened but she just knows. </p><p>“I want to know why you saved my life. After everything. Why?” Natasha doesn’t waver. Her glorious spider doesn’t back down so easily. </p><p>She could push. Or wait her out until the morphine kicks in. Or summon the nurse. Or lie.</p><p>But she doesn’t. She looks straight into Natasha’s eyes and murmurs, “because you mean something to me. You’re a part of me. A piece that I can’t remove. James didn’t kill me, just like he didn’t kill you. Even then, if they asked that of me, I don’t think I could’ve done it. I had nothing but I had you and I had him. You’re mine in all the ways I’m yours.” </p><p>It’s not a confession but by the widening of Natasha’s eyes, she obviously wasn’t expecting something so honest. </p><p>She doesn’t ask for anything in return. “Go to sleep, darling. I’ll keep the monsters at bay.”</p><p>When Natasha swallows heavily and shuts her glassy eyes, Taegan can barely breathe. It’s trust and a promise and so much more. </p><p>•••</p><p>Agent Barton relieves her of her babysitting three days into her stay. He doesn’t leave her side and she tries not to read into Natasha’s easily concealed disappointed look whenever she spots him in the uncomfortable chair. </p><p>Natasha’s discharged two days later, the doctors surprised by her accelerated healing. </p><p>She leaves for Japan. </p><p>•••</p><p>Two months later, making house with the Yakuza, she realises that she quoted James. Twice. </p><p>When they finally began sleeping with one another, he would always comment, once they were wrapped around one another in his Brooklyn drawl, “you’re mine in all the ways I’m yours.” </p><p>On missions when sleeping was a risk, he’d pet their hair and whisper, “I’ll keep the monsters at bay.” </p><p>She tries not to think about him. Or Natasha. Or either of them. </p><p>She dismantles a few of their crime rings, stops a bombing and sleeps with five of their highest. It doesn’t work. Natasha is there, in her mind, in her dreams, in her thoughts. </p><p>She worries that this is what the School meant about weakness. But she’s not in love. She’s a White Viper: they don’t fall in love. </p><p>•••</p><p>Yelena tries to poison her in Madrid. </p><p>She snaps Marina’s neck in London. </p><p>Dominic tries to kill her mark in Brazil.</p><p>Life is chaos and she’s calmer than she’s ever been. </p><p>•••</p><p>She’s stalking a mark in Louisiana when she recognises the eyes following her. </p><p>She follows the woman to a shopping mall, slips a tracker into her coat pocket and blends into the crowd before turning her attentions to the man sitting on a bench on the second floor.</p><p>His teal eyes are flickering around like a birds when she drops to the seat next to him. “Agent Barton,” she smiles, and he visibly flinches away, “or should I call you Clint considering the setting?”</p><p>“Uh,” he blinks rapidly at her before relaxing into the seat, crooked smile tugging at his lips, “Clint’s fine. Taegan, right?”</p><p>She nods. “Why’re you following me?” </p><p>“You know Nat.” He responds honestly and she cocks an eyebrow, waiting. He continues, “I guess I wanted to see how you work to compare to her.”</p><p>Lie. “Wrong answer.” She leans forward, fully aware that he’s alone and only carrying a gun. Reciting from memory, she begins, “Agent Clinton Francis Barton. Grew up in an abusive household, ran away with his brother, Charles Barney Barton-“</p><p>“Did you hack into my secure file?” He sounds impressed and barely looks distressed at her blatantly listing his life story. Interesting. </p><p>“Like it was hard. Now, right answer or I make a scene and leave.” </p><p>His face goes blank before slipping back into his carefree mask. “After Odessa, she seemed off. I assumed it was because someone was able to hit her until I cottoned on to the looks she was giving me every time she woke up.” </p><p>She doesn’t reply and he continues. “She‘s never spoke about her past. Not really. Even thought she went though the S.H.I.E.L.D. programme so that she could join. Just the important bits, bases, names, missions. She mentions tiny things once in a while to me or Coulson.” </p><p>“And?” She pushes after he remains silent for too long. She does have a mark to track down. </p><p>“She told me she knew the shooter. Winter Soldier. I thought he was just a myth. Well,” he looks at her, eyebrows raised and face open, “I would’ve done until I met the White Viper in her apartment.” </p><p>“You’re a fan?” She asks, stumped all of a sudden. “That makes no sense.” </p><p>“I know the shooter purposefully didn’t hit anything vital,” he says, standing. “I know you were in her hospital room. One add one is two after all. Or in this case, add another one to make three.” </p><p>He eyes her as though she will immediately spit out everything she knows. “They don’t call you Hawkeye for nothing,” she says carefully, standing. “Thank you. For looking after her, I mean. She can handle herself, I know. Trust me, but, thank you all the same.” </p><p>She doesn’t check his reaction. She just leaves. His eyes don’t follow her out. </p><p>•••</p><p>In Moscow, she takes a bullet for Natasha. </p><p>Six months have passed and she tries to distance herself, to let the woman go but something keeps pulling her back. </p><p>The man Natasha is meeting barely needs to look at her before he’s spitting out a trigger word and she’s freezing, eyes blank. </p><p>Arrows rain down but the man rolls away from the motionless Natasha, and raises his weapon. </p><p>The bullet hits her hip as an arrow embeds itself into his eye. </p><p>She doesn’t focus on the pain, she focuses on Natasha. </p><p>“Natalia,” she coos, one hand gripping the wound, the other hovering in front of the woman. “Natalia, sweetheart? Can I touch you?” </p><p>She blinks, long eyelashes brushing her cheekbones. “Ally?” </p><p>“Hello, sweetheart.” She throws her arms wide to catch her as Natasha falls boneless. “Where are you, Talia?” </p><p>“Yasha,” she breathes and Taegan resists the urge to tense up.</p><p>“Yeah, honey? What year is it?” </p><p>Clint appears, only to freeze at the sight of the blood pooling from her hip, from Natasha’s content, sleepy smile, cradled in Taegan’s arms. </p><p>“I don’t remember.” She mutters after a while and Taegan nods, smooths the lines of her forehead with her fingers. </p><p>“That’s okay, sweetheart. Do you want me to tell you what is real?” It’s a game they used to play, all of them, whenever the other was triggered. Natasha learnt from James and Taegan learnt from Natasha. </p><p>“Yes, please.” She tucks her head under Taegan’s chin and she catalogs the movement away for evaluation later. When Natasha doesn’t want her around. When she shifts back into her real mind. </p><p>“My name is Taegan now. Your name is Natasha. James is gone. You work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Can I continue?” Natasha moans against her neck and then she’s up and has a gun pointed at her in three seconds flat. </p><p>She doesn’t move, even as Clint tries to calm her. She just blinks up at the woman, hip still bleeding. “I trust you, sweetheart. If you need to pull the trigger, then pull it.” </p><p>And just like that, Natasha’s focus is back. The gun clatters to the ground and the red-head stumbles backwards. “Taegan? Clint?” </p><p>“Welcome back.” She murmurs, hands pressing tightly to the wound on her side. “I’ll just be going-“</p><p>“Let me-“ Natasha’s suddenly there, hands outstretched to touch or grab or manhandle but Taegan doesn’t care because it’s Natasha. “Let me help.”</p><p>Her eyes catch Clint’s. She could run, she can easily find the bullet and stitch the wound herself. A White Viper only needs themselves. If she does this, if she gives in, her life is probably over. Her mother whispers in her ear, as the Headmistress does. </p><p>Love. Survival. Maybe they’re not so different. </p><p>She takes Natasha’s hand. </p><p>•••</p><p>The hotel they’re staying in is actually pretty clean and spacious. </p><p>With towels beneath her, her shirt and trousers lying across the carpet, Natasha plucks the bullet from her hip and stitches her up, all while murmuring, “I don’t know how you do it. It didn’t hit anything important. How are you that lucky?” </p><p>She grins through the sharp pain. “Luck of the Irish.” </p><p>“You’re Irish?” Clint speaks from the wall, eyes watching her like a hawk. “Also, how did you get Nat to snap out of the trigger? None of us have been able to do that. We just knock her out.”</p><p>Taegan doesn’t give him a response, it’s not her secret to tell. And anyway, she doesn’t know what she’s made of, all the files were burnt and her mother is dead. She could be descent from the Queen for all she knows. </p><p>Natasha murmurs as she steps away from her, “it’s a game. What’s real, what’s not. She tells me what’s actually happening, not what I’m seeing or thinking.” </p><p>“You normally try to kill whoever’s talking to you,” Clint nonchalantly says and Taegan can’t help the snort. </p><p>“Speaking from experience, are we?”</p><p>Before he can say anything, Natasha looks pointedly at the ground and mutters, “I trust her.”  </p><p>She blinks at the woman but decides not to make this anymore awkward for her. “Nice. I’ll be seeing you two.” </p><p>Slipping on the jeans and shirt, she tests the movement with her stitches. It’s limited but she can work with it if it came to a fight. </p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want a job?” Clint asks all of a sudden, voice deceptively even. </p><p>“You couldn’t meet my rates,” she snarks, fixing her hair and moving towards the door. </p><p>“They’re good people, Taegan. It’s nothing like what we went through.” Natasha adds a hint of pleading into her voice but Taegan has already made up her mind. She can’t do this. Not even if Natasha will be there. </p><p>“Sorry, baby. I like my freedom.” </p><p>She disappears and they don’t try to stop her. </p><p>•••</p><p>She has tea with Yelena in Switzerland. </p><p>Spends three months at Zander and Anya’s farm. Most of the children have grown but some of them haven’t. One of them, Joanna, is pregnant. Anya still can’t look her in the eye. </p><p>She kills an abuser in Toronto. Saves a child’s life in Shenzhen. Blackmails a woman in Dublin. </p><p>She runs and runs and runs. </p><p>She breaks into the CIA, she kills a high ranking politician in South Africa, she gets stabbed and strangled and tortured in Columbia. </p><p>She survives. She always does. Only now, the trail of blood she leaves behind is starting to flood. </p><p>It’s impossible for her to remember all of the dead’s names. </p><p>She runs and runs and runs. She survives. Sometimes she wishes she didn’t. </p><p>•••</p><p>He is asleep, his face blue and his cheekbones prominent. She wants to drag her fingertips across his eyebrow, down the side of his face, to his lips and jawline. </p><p>“Why?” She whispers, hands braced on the metal of his tank. “Why didn’t you kill me? Why?”</p><p>She knows why. She told Natasha as much. Somewhere in that shell, James remembers enough to not make a kill shot on either of them. </p><p>“I’m so sorry,” she hisses and is embarrassed to feel tears in her eyes. She closes them, rests her head against the metal. </p><p>She slips from his room and knows what she has to do.</p><p>•••</p><p>She writes what she knows down. Everything. The floor plan, the structure of the walls and floors, the guard rotations, the weapons they carry, how to break in and break him out. </p><p>It’s much too detailed for someone of her skill but the agents that will be sent don’t have her experience, her training. </p><p>And anyway, he deserves only the best. </p><p>She puts in a back up plan, and an extraction plan, and a plan if he turns violent, and a plan if he doesn’t wake up. </p><p>(She wouldn’t need any of these, she’d make any decisions on the spot but they wouldn’t, couldn’t understand what he’s like, what he needs. She does, of course she does)</p><p>She makes five copies.</p><p>She sneaks into the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, drops a file onto Director Fury’s desk, drops a file onto Deputy Director Hill’s desk, drops a file onto Agent Coulson’s desk, drops a file onto Clint’s bed and drops the final file onto Natasha’s bed. </p><p>She leaves as if she was never there. </p><p>•••</p><p>Two weeks pass and the summer calls to her, burning up her skin and naturally dying her hair a lighter shade. </p><p>She watches from a pre-prepared spot as they storm the base, as Natasha and Clint cover one another. </p><p>It’s over in half an hour, with agents being lead out in handcuffs and she spots James being lead out in his tank. </p><p>Anger simmers in her stomach and by the sharp glare Natasha’s sending the agents wheeling him out, she’s feeling much the same. </p><p>But it probably is safer if they wake him in a facility. </p><p>She can’t see Clint until she senses something behind her and spins, gun raised to see him standing there, hands raised, blood dripping from the side of his head. </p><p>“I’m fine,” he says, noticing the look. “Some guy got lucky.” He gestures behind her. “We guessed this was you. Very detailed report, Coulson nearly shed a tear at it’s beauty. After Fury checked it for anthrax.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes, pockets the gun. “Take care of him. If he’s hurt in anyway under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s care, anthrax is the least of your worries.” </p><p>He nods. “Trust me, he’s going to be well looked after. Coulson’s already buzzing because he looks like James Barnes, Captain America’s friend.” </p><p>“You have no idea,” she breathes, slipping from her station point and disappearing. </p><p>•••</p><p>Three months pass of radio silence, of no Natasha sightings or James sightings, before she breaks. </p><p>She wait for five days in Natasha’s apartment, trying to calm herself. She’s no use to anyone if she’s stressed. White Vipers are detached and efficient because of it. </p><p>When Natasha sees her, she lets out a long sigh and a clear, “thank God.” </p><p>She’s there, gripping Natasha’s upper arms in a show of comfort, as Natasha snaps out, “he’s not himself. They’ve been trying to break his coding but nothing is working. He barely eats and drinks unless he’s told to and the last doctor he saw, nearly ended up with a broken neck. Somethings different, somethings wrong.” </p><p>She squints at the woman. “What else?” </p><p>“He won’t talk to any of the psychologists or to Fury or Coulson,” ‘or me’ goes unsaid, “but he’s asking for you. He apologised for shooting me and then asked if he could see you too. When  he was told that you weren’t there, he stopped talking completely.” </p><p>And they’re back to square one. Love or survival. James or freedom. </p><p>Maybe they’re not so different. </p><p>She gently grips Natasha’s chin and tilts her head to plant a chaste kiss to her soft lips. “For old times sake,” she murmurs to Natasha’s blown pupils. “Take me to him.” </p><p>She doesn’t say why but Natasha must know. The kiss is a thank you and a sorry all mixed into one. She knows this rodeo, knows that she will be wearing handcuffs and be standing in jumpsuits for a while. </p><p>At least she felt Natasha’s lips for the last time. </p><p>•••</p><p>James is definitely not right. His eyes are pale, no longer their striking blue, and his face is haunted and tired. </p><p>Clint and Coulson are surprised to see her but she doesn’t fight the restraints some agents bestow upon her, or the manhandling into her own cell. </p><p>She waits, thinks of his sad face, of Natasha’s lips, of the Headmistress explaining how to survive through torture. </p><p>“Wait like a snake in the grass, coil up and wait to strike. Learn before taking action. Above all else, the pain will be nothing you’ve ever felt but White Vipers are not weak. You are not controlled by your pain or your emotions. White Vipers survive.” </p><p>When a man with an eyepatch walks in, she knows she’s not about to be tortured. It is possibly the worst intimidation tactic she’s ever been given but then she did encounter a man in France who actually tried growling at her. So, it could be worse. </p><p>“Director Fury,” she smiles, he doesn’t reciprocate, “a pleasure to finally meet you. I go by Taegan Smith, nowadays.” </p><p>She has documents and everything, it’s all very normal. Even though they’re all professionally faked. </p><p>“Miss Smith, you’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” Her smile grows more real. </p><p>“I assumed saving your agent’s lives would get me in your good books.” </p><p>“And directing me to broken soldiers. Breaking into my base. All without me knowing absolute jackshit about you.” </p><p>She chuckles. “That’s how I like it, sir. Now can I meet said soldier or was this all for nothing? Because if you tell me that I’m going to be stuck in this cell for the rest of my days, we’re going to start disagreeing.” </p><p>His eyebrow raises. “Is that supposed to scare me when you couldn’t even get him out of the base by yourself?” </p><p>“Two of your guards outside are newbies, one has a weak leg. Both have daughters.” The handcuffs clatter to the table, falling from her wrists. “You have a gun hidden in your coat and a knife in your boot. There’s a least two exits in this base that you don’t even know about. I could leave in, I’ll give myself a challenge, seven minutes. Five if all the shots I make are headshots but even I don’t count myself a Hawkeye.” </p><p>He doesn’t say or do anything, barely even blinks at her. She returns the sentiment. He’s tall and strong but his eye puts him at a disadvantage. There is a power behind his stance but she doesn’t try to make a move. She’s said her piece, got inside his head, now the ball is in his court. </p><p>“You came here of your own free will.” He reminds her and a decision has been made. </p><p>“I can leave on it, too. I was told that S.H.I.E.L.D. were good people, and I can see that you at least try to stick to the right side. Do the good guys really keep a woman trying to help in a cell?”</p><p>“You mean international assassin with more blood on your hands than most of my agents put together?” </p><p>She thinks if she were to get to James, he would follow her out, act as her backup. It’s a big if but she’s willing to try. </p><p>“You mean the assassin currently standing behind that one-way glass?” She snaps back and his lips quirk. </p><p>“You’ll need to put the handcuffs back on. I’d hate for my agents to get twitchy and end up with a snapped neck.” </p><p>She smiles. “Glad we’re on the same page.”</p><p>•••</p><p>She stops running. </p><p>She survives. </p><p>•••</p><p>“You asked for me?” She steps into his cell, handcuffs slipping from her wrists again. She won’t put herself at a disadvantage if he suddenly turns violent. </p><p>James looks up, sniper’s eyes honing in on her, freezing her in place. “Alice?” </p><p>“Yeah, Jamie. It’s me. Although I would prefer if you call me Taegan, Alice doesn’t really suit me anymore.” </p><p>He lunges from his bed and she prepares to strike when she’s wrapped in his arms. She relaxes and slowly lifts her arms to curl around his back. </p><p>“Jamie?” </p><p>“I’m sorry for shooting you. I swore it was a kill shot. There was so much blood.” He pulls back, pats at her chest where the bullet embedded itself into her flesh. “When I came back, you were gone but the ground was disturbed and...” </p><p>He assumed they’d buried her. They normally did after a hit. The Winter Soldier and his clean-up crew. </p><p>She smiles. “I’m real, I’m alive,” she reassures him before switching tactics, “and I did not go to all this trouble for you to be a silent ghost.” </p><p>“Natalia said you were the one that tipped them off.” The light that returns to his eyes at her name calms her. </p><p>“I did. So stop being any American idiot and accept their help. S.H.I.E.L.D. have proved themselves to be helpful and good people.” </p><p>“You trust them?” He asks and she can’t lie, not about this, not when he’s like this. </p><p>“With my survival, no. With keeping you safe,  yes.” </p><p>He drags a callused finger down the side of her face and she reaches up to feel his steady pulse. It hits her all of a sudden: he wanted to see her because he thought she truly was dead. </p><p>“I’m real,” she repeats, tugging at his hair. “I’m really here and you need to get a goddamn haircut, mister hobo. Please talk to them, it doesn’t have to be about the past, but your triggers need to be taken care of. I can’t really say what happens but I’m sure Nat told you.” </p><p>She knows they’re revealing too much, the touching, the closeness, the shared breathing but she’s willing to let S.H.I.E.L.D. hold this against her if he’s safe and comfortable. </p><p>“Please, Jamie.” She murmurs, blinking up at him. She’s surprised that it isn’t an act, the emotion in her voice is real because she needs him to do this, needs him to finally taste the freedom both Natasha and her have tasted. </p><p>This may be the only life they’ve ever known but he had a life before them, before becoming one of the most infamous assassins to walk the Earth, before he became a killing machine. He had Captain America and a mother and a sister and friends. He lived before he died and became the Asset. </p><p>Even if it means he chooses that over her. If he wants to retire on a farm like Zander and Anya, never to see her again because he’s disgusted by the sight of her. If he turns his back on her and realises that there feelings are just products of their surroundings, that they’re not true. </p><p>She’ll let him go. His happiness is more important than hers. </p><p>Just like Natasha’s. She knows that Clint has taken a place in her life that she no longer fills. She’s seen the looks, knows the heat behind them is something she can never say aloud. </p><p>They move on while she stays still. That’s fine. As long as they’re happy. </p><p>White Vipers aren’t weak. They aren’t plagued by emotions. They don’t feel. They are strong and fast and smart. They don’t rely on anyone but themselves. They survive. </p><p>Staring into James’ eyes, she tries to convince herself that she can live without him, without Natasha. </p><p>•••</p><p>(She can’t and that terrifies her more than anything) </p><p>•••</p><p>Five months later and he’s no longer the haunted soldier. He smiles and laughs and spars carefully. He makes a few friends within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s ranks and becomes more relaxed, more open. </p><p>The triggers are gone. At least the ones they know about. </p><p>He goes on his first mission and passes with flying colours. Clint slaps him on the back and James grabs him to rub a metal hand through his spiky blond hair. They’ve been close ever since Clint was the first one to take him to a shooting range and beat him.  </p><p>Natasha smiles and hides behind her masks. They’ve all been trying to avoid stepping on eggshells around each other. It’s awkward in ways it’s never been before. </p><p>She misses Natasha’s real smile, she misses James’ warmth pressed against her side. </p><p>She doesn’t tell them. </p><p>•••</p><p>By the sixth month, she leaves the base. </p><p>It’s quiet and she easily slips past the guards and agents. They pay her no mind. </p><p>She is the best, after all. </p><p>•••</p><p>Hawaii is hot and tranquil and she spends her days on the beach, in the water, by the pool. </p><p>She is no longer tense.</p><p>She still looks over her shoulder, eyes newcomers suspiciously, sniffs at all her food. </p><p>That’s her training, though. She can never break those habits. </p><p>She runs and runs and runs. </p><p>She’s forgotten how to stop. </p><p>•••</p><p>A cool breeze ripples over her body and she has a knife at the person’s throat before they can blink. </p><p>“Nice to see you to, sister,” Yelena purrs but she doesn’t drop the blade. </p><p>“I thought we would meet in Italy.” She replies. “This isn’t Italy.” </p><p>Yelena carefully shrugs, scans the empty pool and the sun-bed hidden by trees. “You have remained here for a while. I wanted to test your reflexes.” </p><p>“You mean, you wanted to see if you could kill me.” Her hand tightens on the blade.</p><p>“None of ours have ever killed any of yours. You know that, I assume. Yet you’ve killed a few of ours. I wanted to be the first. Is that a sin?” She asks innocently and Taegan laughs. </p><p>“It’s suicidal.” She backs away, sheathes the knife. “But go ahead.” </p><p>Yelena eyes her suspiciously before lashing out. She falls to the tiled ground, Yelena atop her, pistol pointed between her eyes. </p><p>Slowly, Taegan raises her arms to rest behind her head, kicking one leg over the other. She closes her eyes. </p><p>Her mother’s voice is screaming at her, to survive, no matter what. The Headmistress is staring at her disappointed, frowning with her entire face. </p><p>“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Yelena asks, voice soft and confused. Blinking her eyes open, she met with a furrow across the blonde’s forehead. </p><p>“I’m tired, sue me.” She frowns after another tense minute. “Why aren’t you shooting me? Isn’t this what you wanted?” </p><p>In a split second, the pressure of a body atop her disappears and she left staring at Yelena pocketing a gun. “I will not kill you if you won’t fight back. It is wrong.” </p><p>“I can fight you, if you’d like?” </p><p>Yelena retreats, actually takes a step back as though Taegan is a wild animal, slowly turning rabid. “You would be faking it. What is wrong with you?” </p><p>“I told you,” she says, rising from the ground, “I’m tired.” </p><p>There’s a moment of stillness, Yelena’s eyes flickering before they seem to make a connection and then, “who killed her?”</p><p>She smiles. Yelena didn’t get the Black Widow title just because of her beauty. “Nat’s alive.” </p><p>“The Asset?” </p><p>“Also alive.” </p><p>Her frown deepens. “Then I don’t understand. You are the White Viper. You survive. Why would you give up like this?” </p><p>“I’m tired.” </p><p>“You are running from nothing!” Yelena snaps. “We were told that if we ever encounter you, it is the one time we are allowed to run. We were told that you were the best. Natalia could not beat you. Yasha could not beat you. You are the White Viper!” </p><p>“And I am weak!” She yells back, letting her anger spill over, slamming Yelena into the wall of her rented beach house. “I deserve to be put down! White Vipers don’t feel, we don’t care, we certainly don’t love and yet I feel, I care, I love. I am a broken little girl who’s been surviving since age five and I’m fucking tired! I don’t want this anymore.” The fight drains from her and she drops to the bed, hands clutching her head. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”</p><p>There is silence and when she looks up, Yelena is gone. </p><p>•••</p><p>Two days later, a blonde woman is sitting on a bed beside her own. </p><p>“You don’t have to do this alone, sister.” Yelena tells her, honesty lining the words, making them soft and serious. “There is no shame in weakness, no matter what the trainers and teachers taught us. Without weakness, how could we get better? Our weaknesses are what make us strong.”</p><p>“Coming from the woman who’s been trying to be better than Natalia since you first learnt what the programme is.” She says because she’s a spy, a soldier, a weapon. She’s not used to honesty. </p><p>Yelena laughs, pushes sunglasses onto her face. “I thought it would make me whole but I am the Black Widow, just as she is, just as Sveta and Ana and Marie are. I may never be The Black Widow but I am a Black Widow. That is enough.” </p><p>They don’t talk for the rest of the day but she relaxes, knowing that Yelena is there. She may be after her blood but for now, she is just Lena, her sister. </p><p>Yelena is right. That is enough. </p><p>•••</p><p>She stays for a week. At the start, there is a hostility within the room, a fear of who’s going to strike while the other sleeps. </p><p>But Taegan wants to die and Yelena knows that as long as she hasn’t done anything to annoy Taegan, she won’t attack. </p><p>After that, they learn to be normal together. They eat ice cream and chat to the locals and swim and sunbathe. </p><p>It’s stilted at times, a wariness of replicating how they acted on missions, always waiting for the person to move too quickly or stare at them with suspicion. </p><p>For a week, they are two sisters who needed a getaway, even if Taegan’s been practically living at the resort for a month beforehand. </p><p>It’s the best week Taegan’s ever had. Though she’ll never admit that to Yelena, the blonde already has a big enough ego. </p><p>They part ways on the Sunday, Taegan packing for England, Yelena packing for Russia. They don’t talk about jobs or hits or marks. They simply pack, plant a kiss to the others cheek and go their separate ways. </p><p>•••</p><p>In England, she goes home. </p><p>It’s autumn and the leaves are browning, turning to deep reds and light oranges. </p><p>The School is still standing despite the crumbling rock and shattered windows. </p><p>There are no bodies inside, no blood stains, no files or computers. </p><p>She looks where the authorities didn’t. </p><p>Outside, she counts fifteen yards, turns left into the forest and counts twenty yards before rubbing her boot over the bunker’s hatch and slipping inside. </p><p>It’s empty, with cobwebs littering the ancient stone. </p><p>It was used during the war, in case a bomb were to land on the main building, even though she swore the Headmistress was paying off the enemies and the allies. </p><p>It’s a fully functioning facility, with rooms for training and sleeping. There’s a canteen and a gym and even a replicated chamber. She follows the corridor to the Labyrinth. </p><p>She stalks the rocks, staring at the littered weapons and stains dotted across the concrete. </p><p>It’s a theory that she never considered checking up on but Yelena’s comment on the last day, “you are more than a White Viper, sister. Find your file. It would’ve been hidden away like ours. Only I’ve yet to find ours.” </p><p>She knew they had files but she always assumed they were destroyed because even when she hunted for her own, fifty years ago, there wasn’t one. </p><p>But the Headmistress was smart and she remembers all of their conversations, remembers her saying as she watched the older years spar each other, “young Juliette looks too chubby, doesn’t she? Well that’s perfect for a White Viper, Alice. You must be hidden in plain sight.” </p><p>So she stalks to only place that calls to her. </p><p>There was a library beside the Headmistress’ office, beside the labyrinth. No one knew it existed because it was hidden behind a closet. Only a few guards and the Headmistress herself went into the office. That was until Alice came along. </p><p>She never went into the library but she saw the shelves upon shelves of books, heard more than once the Headmistress’ love of reading. </p><p>“To keep the brain smart, Alice. You are welcome to read from my collection.” </p><p>Entering the library she feels along the spines until she spots an odd-looking one. War and Peace. Only she came across an identical version two rows back. </p><p>She pulls the book and the shelf swings open. Inside is a treasure-trove. </p><p>•••</p><p>She journeys to Zander and Anya first, passes their files and the files on the children they raised. </p><p>They stare at the pages and she leaves, giving them the option to burn them or read them. </p><p>•••</p><p>She journeys to Russia and stalks through the burnt out shell of the Red Room.</p><p>It doesn’t take her long to fine a similar bunker, only someone has obviously arrived first. It’s empty and she can see burnt pages. </p><p>Something still feels off. </p><p>So she searches and searches until she finds a completely identical bunker a mile away, hidden behind thick snow and surround by a thicket of trees. </p><p>The halls are lined with rooms just like the one back home but she doesn’t pay any of them any attention. </p><p>She finds the room she’s after and slips through a trapdoor. Underneath the walls are lined with file upon file. </p><p>She picks the relevant ones: Yelena’s, Natasha’s, James’ and the rest of the Widow’s she knows are alive. </p><p>There is still one she hasn’t found yet. So she searches until her fingers are sore and her body is shaking due to the cold. </p><p>Alyona Ivanovo. </p><p>She leaves, files in her bag, and feels oddly lighter. </p><p>••• </p><p>In Moscow, she plants Yelena’s file, along with a few of the Widow’s. </p><p>In Portugal, she hands off the rest. </p><p>In America, she places Natasha’s and James’ files on their beds. </p><p>In Ireland, she reads through her own file, through Alyona’s. </p><p>•••</p><p>Something inside her breaks. </p><p>She takes a hit in York, Botswana, Croatia. </p><p>She shoots a man in Toronto, slashes another’s throat in Mumbai, stabs another’s in Volgograd. </p><p>She kills and kills and kills. </p><p>She runs and runs and runs. </p><p>Everything blurs and her mind quietens. </p><p>•••</p><p>It lasts for two months. </p><p>An ocean of blood left behind in her wake. </p><p>The darkness begins to eat her up inside. </p><p>She turns to the only place she knows can help. </p><p>•••</p><p>The summer brings warmth. </p><p>Charles Xavier is kind and helpful, always there to offer a hand. </p><p>Erik Leshnerr is harsh and funny and pushy to the point of no return. </p><p>She learns and learns and learns.</p><p>Her abilities are more stable now, she’s more in control.</p><p>•••</p><p>She goes when the leaves start to brown. </p><p>Her abilities are stable. She is not. </p><p>Blood stains her hands, the names of the dead whispered to her wherever she goes. </p><p>She survives. </p><p>But at what price?</p><p>•••</p><p>Natasha finds her in California, drinking vodka straight out of the bottle atop a building. </p><p>“He was my father,” she snorts. Smiling up at the Russian goddess. “Nikolai was my bloody father the whole time. My mother, god rest her soul, was a goddamn Widow. No wonder I’m the way I am. It all finally makes sense. I was literally genetically modified from the get-go.” </p><p>Natasha’s lips pinch. “How much have you had to drink?” </p><p>“I’m not drunk, darling. Just... aware.” She stares at the sunset. “She ran from them, from your lot with missing memories and a skill-set to rival Satan himself. She was their best until she stumbled right into my father’s lap. It was planned from the start. They wanted to see if children of the agents would be more skilled. I was a fucking experiment.” </p><p>“Doll,” James’ voice says from the opposite end of the roof. “Can you put the gun down and step away from the edge?” </p><p>She blinks at down at her hands and yes, there is a gun there. Jesus, she’s losing it. </p><p>“Did you know,” she grins at him, “that you technically did kill me? My heart stopped, buddy. Thanks for that. But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You told me that it was better to die human than live long enough to become a machine. Well I never even started human, Jam.” </p><p>She throws him the gun but remains sitting on the edge, no longer caring who’s hearing, who’s watching. </p><p>“We had a corridor, where they would go to be altered. They always came back changed, with longer teeth or angel wings or plants sprouting from their fingertips. They stole that memory from me but I was down there after a mission went wrong. Supposedly nothing happened.” Her veins begin to darken, like oil is spilling through them. “I never even knew, neither did they but she knew, my mother. Then you shot me and next thing I know, I’m covered in this darkness and Charles Xavier is explaining the mutant gene to me.” </p><p>She looks at the concrete pavement below. “I doubt this drop would kill me.” </p><p>Before they can blink, she’s testing her theory, bottle slamming into the pavement while her feet absorb the hit. There are screams and she’s surrounded by men in tactical suits and she’s moving in a split second. </p><p>She doesn’t kill them but by the time Natasha and James make the ground floor, she’s gone. </p><p>She survives. </p><p>She disappears. </p><p>•••</p><p>India is chaos and she finds it oddly comforting. </p><p>Doctor Banner is a brilliant man and she enjoys his company throughly. He laughs when she tells him that she’s running from the same people. He pats her shoulder in sympathy when she explains her own demons. He frowns when she tells them he’s being followed. </p><p>He seems to enjoy teaching her science and she enjoys teaching him control. </p><p>(They both have tremendous amounts and it’s strange how calm she is sleeping next to the man that can turn into a huge, green, rage monster) </p><p>After a month, she leaves but she gives him her contact details.</p><p>Surprisingly enough, he does keep in contact. </p><p>••• </p><p>It all goes wrong in Washington D.C. </p><p>There is a bullet lodged in her side, a collar, like the one Ivy wore, wrapped around her throat and her ankle is broken. </p><p>She kills them, all of them. Even with her body bleeding and broken. Even when she’s screaming to let them take her, let them put her down. She wanted this didn’t she?</p><p>But she fights because that’s all she’s ever known. She will survive. </p><p>She will survive. </p><p>She will survive. </p><p>•••</p><p>With shaky fingers, she digs the bullet out, snaps a chair and uses it as a makeshift cast. She picks the lock on the back of her collar. </p><p>Everything aches and she’s so, so tired. </p><p>She lays down towels and crawls into the bed. </p><p>It smells of her spider and she falls into a deep sleep. </p><p>•••</p><p>She wakes to voices. </p><p>“I’m calling this in.” Natasha hisses. </p><p>“She came here, even after how we left things. Let her sleep, we’ll discuss things when she wakes.” James snaps back. </p><p>“She’s toeing the line, James. She was sighted with Banner, she’s been meeting up with Yelena, Zander called because he’s worried she’s trying to kill herself!” </p><p>“Then we do what we’ve always done,” he replies, calmer, more solid, “we protect our own. She needs us. You honestly think S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t immediately lock her up after she put thirteen agents in the hospital and five in critical care? I won’t let them do that, Tasha.” </p><p>There’s silence and she makes her move, peeking out from behind the door. They stand on opposite ends of the kitchen counter, sharp eyes now fixed to her. </p><p>“Uh, hi?” She smiles. “Sorry about dropping by, I had a wee bit of an incident.” </p><p>James snorts as Natasha mutters, “we gathered.” </p><p>Running a hand through her hair, she steps out, leg and side still sore. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I know I kind of lost it but I’m better now. Or at least, I’m getting better. Bruce helped with that, so did Yelena. I haven’t spoken to Zander because he’s already dealing with Joanna’s pregnancy and I don’t think I can handle that right now.” </p><p>“Why do you keep coming back?” Natasha asks after a short pause and Taegan reels back as though she’s been slapped, blank mask immediately securing into place. “You leave and then you come back and then you leave again. Why not just stay away?”</p><p>She doesn’t do emotions. They hurt and confuse her so she says the only thing that doesn’t involve confessions, “don’t worry, I won’t come back after today. Thank you for the bed.” </p><p>She barely takes three steps before James gently grabs her arm. “She didn’t mean it like that, doll. We’re just confused as to why you don’t stay.”</p><p>“Because I’m not working for S.H.I.E.L.D..” </p><p>“Why not? You trust them enough to look after the both of us.” </p><p>“I’m free.” She whispers, finally meeting his eyes, jumping to Natasha’s a second later. “I pick my jobs, my house, my mark, my allies, my enemies. I choose if I sleep an hour longer or if I start hunting them down at three a.m.. I can go to China, journey to South Korea, dine in Venice, sleep in Benidorm. It’s all me. I never want to be in the position when someone tells me when I wake up, which job I’m taking, how much I’m earning. Never again.” </p><p>She pauses, memorises their faces. “Even if that means losing you two.” </p><p>James’ face hardens within breath. “You’re an absolute idiot, you know that? We’re yours in all the ways you’re ours.” </p><p>She steps back and he drops her arm but he doesn’t stop, even as she opens her mouth to argue. “You have it, Taegan, Alice, whatever the fuck you want to be called, okay? You have my heart and my soul and anything you could possibly want from me. You want to shoot me? Fine, go ahead! Because I’ll give you my life too.” </p><p>Tears form in her eyes but he’s not done. He falls to his knees and even Natasha lets out a tiny exhale at the sight. “I know that you find it difficult to say but I’m willing to say it for the three of us: I love you. I love the both of you. I trust you and want you and will do absolutely anything to see you smile and laugh. I’m yours, okay? I’ve always been yours since the moment you looked at the Winter Soldier and saw a human being.” </p><p>She can’t breathe and the urge to run is so prominent that her legs start to shake. She looks over to Natasha, her green eyes over-spilling. </p><p>“I’m yours too, Taegan.” She whispers, voice thick with emotion. “You complete me. Madame B. can say whatever she likes about love because she’s dead and we’re not. I love you too, Taegan. I’ve loved you since Prague when you could’ve easily let me be shot, I was horrid to you because I couldn’t believe you were better than me but you saved me. You saved both of us. So I’m yours, in body and soul and with every breathe I take. I’m yours.” </p><p>“Please,” James murmurs, hands raised like she’s a scared animal, still on his knees with his neck bared in such a vulnerable position. “Please, for once, let us save you. Let us prove how much you mean to us-“</p><p>“-because we’ll take whatever parts you can give,” Natasha finishes, hands also raised and body bare of weapons to use against her. </p><p>She is drowning and for once, she doesn’t struggle against the wave. With a shaky breath, she says, with much more confidence than she feels, “you can take everything. Everything and anything I can give. You’re the only people in this world I’ve ever trusted and,” she swallows hard and then makes sure she looks both of them in the eye, Natasha, then James then the hands in front of her. </p><p>“And, I love you both with every atom inside of me. I’m yours. Please,” she doesn’t know what she’s asking for but they’re there, holding her, callused hands and muscled bodies, clutching her like they can fit the broken pieces of her back together. </p><p>(She has a sneaking suspicion they might be able to) </p><p>•••</p><p>It is summer and Clint is dealing with a God, Natasha is flirting with a billionaire and James is staring at his friend, pulled from the ice. </p><p>She is not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent but she works for them when she decides to. </p><p>Fury is annoyed by the deal but she has a feeling she’s growing on him. Coulson loves her but that’s probably because of the fact she gets him tickets whenever his cello-woman is performing. Maria throughly enjoys her ability to make Natasha blush and Clint to do his paperwork. </p><p>Their apartment is clean and they have two cats because assassins do in fact have emotions. </p><p>She survives and, strangely enough, she starts to thrive. </p><p>•••</p><p>There are aliens pouring through the sky and she sees the Hulk for the first time. Captain America has more suicidal tendencies than she does and Iron Man is absolutely hilarious if you break down his thick skin. Thor is smart despite his dumb persona and she can’t help but flirt with Loki, who obviously enjoys her company. </p><p>They are superheroes but they are also people. </p><p>She holds Tony through his panic attacks, bonds with Steve over being experiments, listens to Thor discuss his childhood, drinks tea with Bruce to calm him, speaks with Clint about brainwashing and spars with James and Natasha whenever their past makes a reappearance. </p><p>They are not perfect. They’re all a little broken. But they are content. </p><p>Thor’s laugh leaves everyone laughing too. Tony is always there to crack a joke. Steve pranks everyone with his supposed inability to use technology. Bruce giggles over books he’s reading. Clint loves beating everyone at darts. James always comments on his age, leaving everyone groaning. Natasha causes everyone to stare in awe whenever she waltzes into a room. </p><p>Taegan fights and laughs and cries and smiles. </p><p>She survives. </p><p>But that doesn’t matter anymore. </p><p>She lives. </p><p>She meets Joanna’s babies (twins?!), meets Laura and instantly loves the woman who can somehow handle Clint’s shit, jokes with Darcy, learns from Jane, serenades Pepper if she sees her, coos at Bruce with Betty, cries laughing with Sam, spars with Maria, insults Fury, cuddles Coulson, sweet talks Sharon, play fights with Zander and Anya, drinks coffee in Iceland with Yelena. </p><p>Taegan Smith is Alice, is an experiment, is an assassin, is the White Viper, is an honorary S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, is a superhero. </p><p>But in her bone marrow, in her DNA, in her very makeup, nestling next to her heart, stitched into her soul, she is herself. </p><p>She learns that she likes poetry and hates spiders (ironic, right, Nat! Nat? Nat, please, baby, talk to me?). She likes opera but hates watching the ballet (they’ll never be as good as you two, it’s annoying). She realises that she is not broken, she is just different. Her childhood was far from normal. </p><p>But she is alive. She has friends and family and a home. She is happy. </p><p>••• </p><p>She takes down drug rings, abusers, corrupt politicians. She fights aliens and mutants and Gods. </p><p>She is the White Viper. </p><p>But she is not her past.</p><p>•••</p><p>It’s spring when she wakes between Natasha and James. He’s sweaty from his run and she has red curls covering her face. She kisses the both of them on the mouth and snuggles deeper. </p><p>“Go to sleep,” James whispers. </p><p>“We’ll keep the monsters at bay,” Natasha finishes. </p><p>“You two are mine in all the ways I’m yours,” she murmurs, closing her eyes with a smile on her face.</p><p>•••</p><p>Taegan Smith starts to live.</p>
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